Poker Face
by SpiderxxChick
Summary: Emma Frost is out looking for a challenge - and it seems she may have met her match. Title's from the Lady Gaga song, - it fit well. Would be OT if it were a manga, not T, not M. Tony Stark/ Emma Frost, 'cause I can. : Movie/comic verse. Oneshot.


All stuff mentioned (like Budweiser and The Sopranos) belong to their respective owners. Tony Stark and Emma Frost are property of Marvel, story is mine. You steal, I kill. End of story.

A Note:

Hey guys! Thanks for reading! There are no indents by the way because this website doesn't let you use tab (ARGH). Anyway, I know this is quite different from my Predator User Guide, but I try to switch it up every now and then. This is Tony Stark/ Emma Frost because they are absolutely perfect for each other. XD You know I'm right. I put this in Iron Man category 'cause it got no hits in the X-Men category:( . Hope you like it, but if you don't, please don't flame. Constructive criticism and grammar correcting are cool, (kind of a grammar nazi here) I just hate all the "OMG ur story suckz bllz." Lol. So, if that's you, don't bother reading. Please. I beg of you. Also, don't write a story off of my story. Like for example "after SpiderxxChick's story happened, Tony and Emma went to McDonald's." No, just no. You want to write a story, make up your own backstory, please don't use mine. Too many nightmares with that already lol. That's where the absolute worst OOC happens. Sooooooo...X-Men bashing included, especially cause I hate Emma/Scott. Cyclops = big whoop for me. See the excitement? I thought not. (XD at somebody in XML calling him Boyscout, think it was Wolverine.) I think Cyclops is far too soft for a sort-of domineering personality like Emma. Rated for L, SC.

By the way, whatever stories I upload are complete by the time I upload them (*Hopes not to curse self with writer's block because of this* *knocks on wood*) because there is nothing worse than getting REALLLLLLY into a story someone wrote, only to find out they have no intention of completing it since its last update was '02. If I do a chapter story (which I haven't so far) my only delay will be in typing the freaking thing up. (GAHHH NEED BRAIN KEYBOARD.) Anyway, I've already wasted enough of your time (if you bothered to read this) so enjoy!

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"So then I said, why bother? Why take the shots for the story? I mean, if I'm not getting paid for it anyway…"

Emma sighed as her attentiveness waivered. She was on another date, with another average Joe guy that just wanted to get her into bed so he could brag about it. It was so…boring. She was out today for some excitement- to get away from her nerdy X-Dweeb friends, not to have her ear talked off by someone that could easily qualify for X-Dweeb membership.

She looked around the intricately designed Chinese restaurant, hoping to find something that would take away her utter boredom. She focused on the patrons coming through the large glass entrance doors.

'A waiter, a high school jock and his trashy cheerleader wannabe slut… Oh. Now that's interesting …' Emma's thoughts trailed off.

A tall, Italian man strode through the door with his girlfriends following right behind him. She'd have known that perfectly-manicured beard anywhere- it was Tony Stark.

A thoroughly evil smile spread across Emma's face.

'My night just got a whole lot better.'

"Um, excuse me…" she interrupted the boy across from her who was _still_ rambling on about his day at work. "I just saw a friend of mine, I'm going to go say hello if you don't mind." She got up and walked away without waiting for his answer. She didn't really care what he thought anyway; she had bigger fish to fry.

"Mr. Stark," Emma called out as she got close to him. He whirled around to meet her gaze.

"Emma Frost. Nice to finally meet you," she introduced herself, even though she knew her face was just as recognizable as his. He flashed her the same dazzling smile she had seen so many times on the news. She wondered if he practiced it nightly.

"Good to meet you too, Ms. Frost. How are the X-Men doing?"

Emma cringed. She had purposely gone to New York City to avoid mention of her oh-so-lovable group of mutant pals. "Fine. And you?" She asked dully, hoping he didn't pick up on her eagerness to change the subject. If he did, he sure didn't remark on it.

"Not bad. Would you like to join us?" Emma paused for a moment. She _should_ go back to her date…but then again, she really was never one for doing the right thing, unless it benefited her somehow.

"Why not," she said, faking disinterest as she followed him to his table in the back room of the restaurant. She made sure she walked ahead of his girlfriends, just so they got the idea that she was far above their social standing. She hated trashy girls with a passion.

'If you're going to be a slut, at least be gorgeous while you're at it.' She thought disdainfully as she watched the girl with greasy black hair nearly run past her and latch herself firmly onto Tony's arm. This wasn't how she had planned it. She rarely found a man worth her time, and when she did she _hated _competition.

'Fine then, if that's how you're going to play…'

Emma watched, disgusted as Tony's tramp in front of her wagged her butt so far with each step, she nearly caught glimpses of underwear from under the girl's ugly, too-short black dress.

"I'll be right back," Emma simpered just loud enough so only Tony and his attachable slut could hear.

She walked off to the bathroom and looked deeply into the ornately-framed mirror, scrutinizing her image. She adjusted her mink stole so more of her cleavage showed. She then unbuckled the silver chain that strapped her dress across her back, slid her dress down and removed the slip that lay underneath it. She pulled the dress back up and fastened the halter behind her neck once again. Emma smiled deviously at the result of her efforts. The neckline of the dress was now almost cut down to her navel. She looked like an angel gone bad.

"I'll show you whores how it's done," she sneered as she applied more of her ice-blue lipstick, then strode gracefully out of the bathroom.

Emma made her way to the table in the back room, earning quite a few stares as she went including, she happily noted as she got back to the table, one from Tony Stark. She took her place directly across from him and nearly laughed in glee as she saw his tramps scoot ever-so-slightly in his direction. Tony's eyes travelled up and down Emma's new neckline as Emma smirked evilly at one of her female companions.

"So doll, what's your name?" She simpered with the slightest hint of condescension.

"Candace," the girl spat back, "and this is Marissa."

"Nice to meet you both." Emma gave a fake smile and turned back to her conquest.

"So Tony, what are you doing out on this dark and gloomy night?" She asked as a lightning bolt flashed outside the window, eerily on cue. He smiled- a real one this time- not the fake, P.R. smile he'd given her before.

"Oh, I'm just out to have some fun…play some games maybe…" He added just a hint of a knowing tone at the end of his statement and Emma wondered if he was on to her little game already. After all, this was no 'Average Joe' she was dealing with- this was Tony Stark: billionaire, genius-inventor and famed playboy. He thought of women the same way she thought of men- nice while they lasted, but ultimately disposable. They had a lot more in common than she had originally thought.

_**She splayed her hand across the table as if reaching out to accept his offer with a handshake. **_

"Well, count me in, Mr. Stark. I love games, " she said emphatically, though her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Ladies…" Tony started, turning to his dates. "Would you mind joining Emma's neglected friend for a few minutes?"

They looked disappointed, but got up to leave and go talk to the poor boy Emma had left behind. She fought off a smirk as the blonde one discreetly stuck her the finger.

'Checkmate…' she thought triumphantly, 'And the White Queen takes all again.'

Tony waited until the girls were out of earshot, then turned to Emma and said, "What are you up to?"

She laughed and feigned innocence. "Oh Tony, I'm not really _that_ infamous, am I?"

He nearly glared at her. "Your reputation's nearly as bad as mine."

She leaned in closer, intrigued, and whispered, "Is that a challenge, Mr. Stark?"

He snickered at that and, surprisingly even to her, so did she.

"I'd definitely pay to see that match. Playboy Heart-Breaker vs. Cold-As-Ice Bitch, coming to you from Uptown, New York City, " he joked. So he did know her _and_ that she was just here for the thrill. Why was he still here, then? Why was _she_ still here?

"What do you say we just relax and enjoy dinner like the incredibly noble socialites that we are?" She quipped back. Emma noticed he couldn't help but smirk.

"Waiter!" He called and two uniformed men came running over. "In that case, change the bottle of Merlot to two beers, " he turned to Emma, "…You drink Coors Light like every other female I know?"

"No, Budweiser," She let her head loll and gazed up at the waiter. "Regular, not light."

Tony seemed thoroughly impressed. "Make it two, then." They sat in silence for a few moments until Tony let out a chuckle.

"What?" Emma inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"You do know that that man you were just with wasn't just a photographer, right?"

"He was a photographer?" She asked honestly, without thinking.

Tony laughed. "You really are a player, aren't you? That guy's a friend of mine. Peter Parker ring a bell?"

Emma was mildly surprised. "Spiderman?" She whispered. "I always imagined him to be more exciting."

Tony leaned in so close that Emma's face almost touched his. "Oh really? And how did you imagine me?"

Emma remembered that odd dream she had whenever she had been in the city that day about skinny-dipping in Stark's private pool while he watched her, looking like he belonged in The Sopranos. It only took her a millisecond to decide not to bring it up.

"You're much less hot in person," she replied, putting on her best poker face. "I really thought you were much more attractive, but then again - T.V. always makes people look better, now doesn't it?"

"You-" The waiter arrived with their beers and some appetizers, cutting off Tony's reply.

"Thank you," he said curtly to the waiter before turning back to Emma. She busied herself by slowly licking a crumb of calamari off of her finger.

"You think you're such a hot little bitch, don't you?" He whispered furiously, his eyes narrowing as he spoke.

" Now isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?" She sneered back enchantingly. "Mr. Two Sluts Every Dinner, Mr. Ladies' Man With The Hotrod – _Mr. Little Kid Playing Superhero_."

He looked at her frigidly as soon as the last remark rolled off her tongue. She had known she would hit a soft spot with that one.

Tony backed away from her a great deal and took a large sip of his beer. She was glad he'd gotten angry. He was starting to warm up to her, which was utterly bad.

_**If only because she actually liked him.**_

They ate their meal in silence, neither one looking at the other until the check arrived and the waiter set down two fortune cookies, took Tony's credit card and walked off.

Emma opened her cookie and was suddenly intrigued, not by the cookie – which was excellent – but by the little slip of paper inside it.

'_Take a chance tonight; you never know what you might find.'_

'Sounds like a horoscope,' she thought disdainfully.

Tony took his card back from the waiter, set down the survey he'd been filling out and walked away. No goodbye, not even an acknowledgement.

Emma sighed at the thought of trusting a fortune cookie before she clamped her hand over the waiter's as he went to pick up the survey.

"Can I see that for a moment?" She asked, grabbing the paper from him before he had a chance to decline. She grabbed a piece of paper from her purse and scribbled down Tony's phone number from the card. "Thank you," She called as she tossed the survey back onto the table and walked out into the foyer of the restaurant. She noted Peter Parker was busy chatting it up with Tony's two tramps. Emma smiled. By the look on his face, she knew she had definitely made his night without even intending to do so.

She ran through the rain to the payphone outside and punched in Stark's number.

"Hello?" He answered after three rings.

"Tony?" Emma whimpered in the highest, most annoyingly-nasal Brooklyn accent she could muster. "It's Marissa. I'm wet and I'm cold, that jerk just left me outside in the rain. …Can I come back to your place?"

"Sure," he said sounding emotionless. "I could use a good lay."

Emma laughed, making sure to keep her tone high and whiny. Actually, so could she now that she thought about it. It sounded odd, but sometimes she felt she just needed to be needed. That was before she broke the man's heart, of course.

" 'Kay, I'll be right over. Stark Tower, right?" She asked, hoping the real Marissa hadn't asked him this already.

"Yeah," Tony replied and Emma breathed a silent sigh of relief. "I'll buzz you in."

She hung up, then thought deeply as she walked. Why was she doing this? Why did Tony Stark, of all people, seem more trustworthy than the other fifty boyfriends she'd had? Unfortunately, her subconscious knew the exact reason.

_**'Because he's just like you, sweetie…'**_

She drove the thought away as she arrived at Stark Tower and pushed the buzzer next to the side door. There was a click as the door unlocked and then another one as it shut behind her. She walked over to the only open elevator in the darkened building. 'You know, if he knows it's me, this would be the perfect murder.' She thought, unsettled.

"Woman Dies In After-Hours Faulty Elevator." She could see the headlines already.

Emma nearly laughed. Making headlines wouldn't be such a bad way to go.

_**But the elevator never crashed.**_

"Come on in," Tony's voice rang out as the elevator doors opened.

Emma stepped in and glanced around, finding he was nowhere in sight. It was then that she saw it – the large, glimmering pool out on the balcony. It was so beautiful, so irresistible, so grand - it fit him perfectly.

"I'll be out in a minute!" Tony's voice piped up again. "Make yourself at home."

Emma remembered that dream she always had…

"Maybe I just will…" she whispered.

She walked out onto the balcony and stared for a long moment.

Should she?

………

She should.

She threw her dress and stole off before tossing her heels aside and diving in. She nearly sighed as she hit the water – the pool was so delightfully warm. She pulled herself up to the surface and looked down at the greenish, waving impressions the pool lights cast all over the balcony.

"Hey, how much for –" Tony walked out onto the balcony, wad of bills in hand, then stopped dead when he saw the white dress. A look of confusion swept over his face as he watched Emma swim over to him and prop herself up on the side of the pool. She wasn't sure if he was more shocked or angry, but she seized the opportunity his moment of indecision gave her.

"I'm sorry," she spoke, gazing up at his tanned face. "…That remark I made…about you…about Iron Man…that was wrong. I crossed a line and ……… I apologize." She couldn't believe the words she was saying. They were so warm and gentle – so unlike anything she'd ever said to a man – to anyone – before.

Tony looked as if he was trying to formulate words, but couldn't. It wasn't until she boosted herself out of the pool, revealing her crimson lacy bra and underwear that Tony finally found his voice.

"But you're not sorry about lying to me or helping yourself to my pool."

Emma thought a moment, then smiled. "You expected a promiscuous bitch and you got one. Not the one you thought you were getting, but still – aren't you glad you got an upgrade from 'prostitute bitch' to 'rich, socialite, cunning bitch'?"

Tony stared at her for a few moments, then just when Emma was sure he would scream at her and kick her out, he rolled his eyes and laughed, seemingly exasperated. He stuck his money in his pocket as walked up to her and grabbed her hands. "I hate to disappoint you, sweetheart, but I'm not the only one who 'upgraded' here. You've got to admit I'm a hell of a lot better than that Shaw douche you used to hang around with." He moved in so his nose was touching hers and she could feel his white tank top absorbing the moisture off her body.

He purred coyly in her ear, "Maybe even an upgrade from any one of those X-Men?"

She grinned broadly and ran her fingers down his strong bicep. God, he was hot.

"Better than all of them put together," she whispered to him, surprised to find that she actually meant it.

_**Game playing bait and a game playing fish – they complemented each other excellently. **_

"So…" Emma started before her words were cut off by Tony's mouth.

'He's a damn good kisser...' she thought as he pulled away after a few moments, stopping briefly to run his tongue along her lower lip.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" She flattered. "Not only are you smart _and_ gorgeous, you're a _great_ kisser."

He snickered evilly, then called as she walked away, "I knew you were lying!"

"About what?" She joked innocently, walking over to his dresser and picking up the deck of cards laying there.

"The whole 'you're not as hot as on T.V.' thing," he spoke from right behind her, placing his hands on her waist.

"Whoa, hold on now, not yet." She pushed him away from her and headed back out to the balcony. "You gotta work for it first." Emma pulled two chairs and a table together, then set the cards down and walked back over to her discarded clothes.

"Oh God, not 52-Pickup…" he sighed jokingly.

"No…" Emma trailed off, pulling back on her dress and rearranging her stole. "Strip poker."

Tony let out a mix between a laugh and a growl and sat down. "Alright, Emma – but you're _going_ to lose."

She snickered and sat across from him. "No, I'm not. When you play strip poker…" she paused to run a card across her lip, "Everybody wins."

As he dealt the cards, she tried to read his mind, but couldn't. Maybe that Extremis virus he had did more than he thought it did…

She looked into his narrowed blue eyes and then back to her cards. A pair of two's and no way for her to know what he had. Shit.

She set down three cards and hoped for the best, her hope fading when she pulled nothing but junk. Her worst fears were confirmed when Tony laid down his hand.

"Three queens."

He smirked triumphantly when she set down her hand, revealing her measly pair. Emma slid her stole slowly down her shoulders, then let it drop to the ground. He dealt again and she pulled a queen, a nine, a ten, a two and a jack. She set down the two, picked up a new one and grinned mischievously. A king. Tony was screwed.

He frowned as he set his pair of three's down on the table, while Emma only grinned wider.

"A straight. Take that shirt off, darling."

Tony snapped his fingers in mock disappointment. "Should have put my shoes back on before."

She laughed and watched intently as he peeled off his tank top to reveal what sincerely might have been the finest set of abs she had ever seen. That was a very, very impressive feat considering how many people she'd seen half-naked.

"Like what you see?"

She looked up and feigned surprise. "Huh? Sorry, I was just lost in thought about the body of a certain Italian inventor. You mind repeating that?"

"Oh, you asked for this…" he growled as he lunged forward and pushed her into the pool. Cards landed down around them as they got back to the surface and Emma picked a soggy ace out of the water.

"Oh look! The turn!" Emma joked; fully aware this was turning into badly played Texas Hold 'Em Strip Poker. "…and I win this hand most definitely! ...Any last words, doll?"

"But we're tied, remember? One-to-one." He swam over to her, then dragged her over to the spa in the corner of the pool and slid her dress over her shoulders.

"We're not tied…" she mused as he lifted her up into the spa's warm bubbles, then climbed in after her.

"No?" He asked, grinning like he knew exactly what she was going to say.

"It's Strip Poker," she simpered as he closed in on her, breathing onto her neck. He ran his tongue lightly along her collarbone, then whispered so she could barely hear, "Everybody wins."

…………………………………………………. The Next Morning………………………………………………………………………..

Jarvis walked quietly out onto the balcony and got out the pool skimmer. Mr. Stark must have had quite a night – there was almost an entire deck of cards floating around aimlessly in the water. He picked them out with the skimmer and dumped them in the trash bag he was carrying, one-by-one. Jarvis started to make his way back to the elevator, then stopped abruptly. A pretty blonde lay in bed next to his boss – and not just any pretty blonde. He'd have known that face anywhere.

Jarvis smiled. "You're quite the lucky bastard," he whispered.

"Thank you, "a female voice answered quietly. "I know I am."

Emma and Jarvis exchanged a small smile before Jarvis stepped into the elevator.

"Jarvis?" Tony said, nearly scaring the crap out of Emma. She'd thought he was sound asleep. Not being able to read his mind was such a damn pain and yet such a nice break from the noise she constantly had in her head all-in-one.

"Tell the cook to make some French toast, please. And an omelette. A large-enough-for-two one."

"I'll be right up with that, sir." With that Jarvis disappeared behind the elevator's closing doors.

"You are quite the lucky bastard, Emma." Tony said, laughing as he got punched in the shoulder. "…But then again, so am I."

Emma smiled. She knew she'd finally met her match –a _nearly_ heartless player , in short -herself in male form.

"Glad I went to that Chinese restaurant," Emma began.

Tony opened one eye, curious to see her expression. "Why?"

"Because I'd been all over town…"

"Yes?"

"And you know, I found just what I was looking for there." She smiled at the look of exasperation on Tony's face. The suspense was killing him.

"Fine," he sighed in mock anger. "What were you looking for?"

She grinned the same evil grin that she'd had on when she first saw him walk through the restaurant doors.

"A game-playing fish."


End file.
